Morbius
by Dakk Tribal
Summary: A cold night in New York, a tragic individual is forced to commit murder in order to survive.


A cold winter's night, the breeze made the light snow that wasn't stuck to the ground fly all over, and Christine wished now more than ever that she had gotten the taxi when she had the chance back at the cafe where she worked. 'That would have worked wonders for me, then I wouldn't be trudging through the snow late at night...and it happens to be in New York City of all places!' She nearly shouted, but kept the words inside, she was too cold to scream. Huddled up within her coat, she crossed the street near the river and kept on going. Her apartment was past the World Trade Center Memorial, so she wasn't too far. Of course, even a walk home can cause trouble, she thought.

So, Christine kept walking to keep herself warm, and she entered the area where her apartment was. She had been quite careful as of late, knowing that at something could happen at anytime. It WAS New York, after all.

The snow made navigating even harder, with the wind blowing it against her face, Christine had to keep her eyes open only a little and she almost hit a street lamp on more than one occasion. Going onto a sidewalk that led right to her building, Christine stopped for the traffic light, jumping up and down to help keep herself warm even a little bit. The light was stuck on red, and after a few minutes of standing she wanted to scream at the light to change. "Come on, dammit!"

She heard the scrunching of snow next to her, and a tall stranger stood next to her. The face was covered by the collar of the coat he wore as well as a hat. Wearing an overcoat that appeared to be a size bigger than Christine was, the woman decided to pass the time and speak. "Cold isn't it?" She felt that was the stupidest way to start a conversation but she had little choice.

"Yes. Reminds me of home," the man said, and Christine noticed that the accent was definitely foreign, European at most.

"Really? Where are you from?"

The light finally turned green, much to Christine's happiness, but she stuck next to the stranger as he started to walk. She wanted to hear his answer before she split.

"Greece," he replied.

Not too often I meet anyone from there, Christine thought. "Well, it was nice meeting you, but I have to go this way."

"Very well, take care," said the man, and he walked to the right when they reached the other side of the street.

Christine kept walking straight and she saw her building in the distance. "Finally!" She started to break out in a run-

-when a pair of arms grabbed her from the bushes and pulled her to the bush. She would have screamed bu a hand was put over her mouth and she was slammed into the ground, hitting her head against the rock hard ground.

Whoever had grabbed her had a hold of purse and his hand went rummaging through it. Christine took a moment to look at the man while she gathered her mind. She expected the mugger to be the same man she had met at the crossing but it wasn't. This man had a great deal of facial hair and was cursing in an American accent. He grabbed the money she kept in her wallet and tossed the purse in Christine's face. Christine, knowing she'd lose all the money she had made that day if the crook got away, ran after him through the bushes and into an alley. After reaching a burning barrel, the man turned around and smacked Christine in the face. The result being her nose broke and blood splattered all over her face. She fell backwards and landed in the dirt, the last thing she saw was the man turning around to run away, never to be seen again.

But then an odd thing happened. Christine fell on her back, and as soon as she landed, a shadow blurred past her field of vision. She couldn't make out what it was, but she soon heard a loud scream and a disgusting sound. What sounded like a crunch.  
Christine sat up slowly, her head ringing and her nose feeling like it was on fire. She saw straight ahead of her on the brick wall was a silhouette of a man hunched over another. She looked down to where the shadow was originating from, and saw that it was indeed a man.  
Or at least it looked like a man. Wearing an all black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, the skin white as the snow under his feet. The hair was long, black, and straight going halfway down the back.

Unknowingly Christine gasped as she saw the mugger fall to the ground, his next looking like it had been devoured and turned inside out. Her gasp attracted the attacker-her savior- and he turned to face her, his hands now visible, with claw like fingernails that were at least an inch long. His eyes were red as the blood that covered his jaw, and protruding from his open mouth were long canines.

A vampire?!

Christine began to crawl back as fast as she could, but the person or whatever it was didn't seem interested in her. She finally got to her feet and took off running.

Once she was gone, Morbius looked to the sky, distraught that he had fallen so low to use human prey, but he had to do it or face starving to death. But, at least he had done it to possibly save the life of another. That was the only light in it for him.


End file.
